Wednesday, May 17, 2017

9531. LEAF, GRAVE, SHADOW

LEAF, GRAVE, SHADOW
I can see down from here, probably 700 feet,
some sort of solid drop beneath me where
the water flows and the rocks abound. Better
yet, no one knows I'm here, and gravity exists.
Yet, lest I jump I hold myself back. The trees
are just too pretty, and Ithaca maybe needs me.
-
In another lifetime, it was all a dream : I settled
in with hundreds of millions of dollars, in their 
terms, born to wealth, some noble sun, yet killed
on a field of battle by lance and stun. Remembering
nothing of this at all, I guess my horse went down
with me?
-
That was the land of Parbier. I've been told it was 
adjacent to Gaul but holds nothing of the present
day and is forgotten now  -  all trace of it is gone.
I do remember the land of Lanquedoc, but that
was far south of here. The language of yes.
-
That's what Lanquedoc means, or originally meant.
Le Language de Oui. Close anyway. One of my
fathers had told me that. 'Happiness is a goal to be
sought by only saying yes, by remaining steady
and with always the sun within your heart.

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